


Fragments

by LibraryMage



Series: Lost and Found [4]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Child Abuse, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Short stories based on one-word prompts taking place in the Lost and Found AU.  Not necessarily connected and not in chronological order.





	1. Mark

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started with a list of one-word prompts I was using to get back into writing an original fiction story I hadn't worked on in a while. I started having ideas about those prompts in the context of this AU, and started compiling those ideas into a fic. Each chapter is based on one of the prompts, and most of these are character-centric rather than plot-driven. They're not in any specific order, and the chapters aren't really connected to each other outside of the fact that they take place in the same AU. New character, relationship, and additional tags will be added as new chapters are posted.
> 
> Given the nature of this AU, I'm going to give a general content warning for child abuse, though that doesn't come up in every chapter.

His master had given him the scar.

It slashed across the left side of his face, running from his cheekbone down to his chin.  It had happened during training; a knife that had come out of nowhere, cutting across Ezra’s cheek.  It had hurt, but it hadn't been serious enough to waste bacta on, so the cut had become a scar, permanently marking his face.

Ezra wasn’t bothered by it.  In fact, he wore it as a mark of pride.  It had been left there by his master, a sign of how far he’d progressed in his training, and how far he still had to go.  It was a lesson that could have been so much worse, but his master had chosen not to make it any more painful.

He had other scars that his master had left on his body, but this one was obvious, prominent, on a place that would almost never be covered.  In some ways, Ezra thought, it was like his master had marked Ezra as _his._   He knew it hadn't been intentional, but that didn’t matter.  If it could mean _that_ , then Ezra was glad the wound had scarred.


	2. Birthday

Mira froze in the middle of the act of pouring herself a cup of caf.  She’d almost forgotten.  How could she even come close to forgetting?  What the kriff kind of mother was she?

When she heard Ephraim’s footsteps behind her, she turned and threw her arms around him as tears welled up in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked as he returned her embrace.

“Ezra,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Ephraim’s muscles went tense, and Mira knew he’d nearly forgotten, too.

“We didn’t forget _him_ ,” Ephraim said, his arms tightening around her.  “That’s what’s important.”

Mira buried her face in her husband’s shoulder.  It shouldn't have been like this.  Today, they shouldn't be standing in the kitchen, trying to hold each other up under the weight of what they’d lost, making excuses for the fact that they’d nearly forgotten their son’s birthday.  They should have been woken up by Ezra, out of bed hours before he should be, jumping into their bed and shouting _Mom, Dad, wake up, I’m **four**!_   They should have pulled Ezra under the blankets with them, trying to coax him into sleeping for a few more hours, only to give up after ten minutes of Ezra squirming with excitement.

They should be happy today; all three of them together.  They shouldn’t be standing here, wondering if Ezra had even lived to see this day, and what kind of horrors he was enduring if he had.


	3. Name

The first thing Maul had asked the boy when he woke was his name.

He didn’t know when he’d decided that he would allow the boy to keep it, but he would, if only because he needed to call the child _something_.

His family name was irrelevant.  The boy would never see his parents again and in time, he likely wouldn’t even remember them.  But there was no harm in letting him keep his own name, one that didn't tie him to his parents or his old life.

Ezra.  It was a name that so clearly belonged to a sentient being, not to a dog kept chained or caged until its master ordered it to attack, or an object to be thrown away once it had served some purpose.  It wasn’t the name of a weapon.

Maul didn’t know if his own name was his _real_ name.  He doubted it.  Sidious would never have allowed him to keep it if it was.  Just another way he would be different from his former master.  His apprentice would lose the place he’d once called his home and the people he’d called his family -- and they were necessary losses, Maul reminded himself -- but his name was his to keep.


	4. Hiding

Somehow, Ezra knew someone was coming, and he tried to hide.

The room was small and almost empty, so he did the only thing he could.  He hid under the blanket, curled up in a ball on the bed.  It wouldn’t fool anyone, but there was nowhere else he could go.  Some deep instinct that didn’t care about whether things made sense told him to hide before Master arrived and took him to the other room where Ezra always got hurt.  Master called it training, but to Ezra it was just running until he could barely stand up.  It was dodging blows and getting bruises when he was too slow or moved in a direction that was too predictable.  It was punching a wall until his fingers bled.  It was a stunner Master pressed to his skin, giving him shocks that were supposed to teach him how to handle pain, but only ever seemed to hurt more every day.

The door opened and Ezra held his breath, as if that would stop Master from finding his hiding place.

Master didn’t touch him, but _something_ dragged Ezra off the bed and across the floor until he was huddled in a ball at Master’s feet.

“Did you really think that would hide you from me?” he asked, his voice cold with disappointment.

“N--no, Master,” Ezra said, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes.  He knew he’d be punished for trying to hide.  Hiding meant trying to avoid training and that was disobedience and now crying would only make his punishment worse.

Ezra let out a cry of pain as Master grabbed his hair and hauled him to his feet, not bothering to try and hold it back when he was already crying.

“Let go!” Ezra cried.  “Please!”

“What have I told you about begging?” Master asked.

“That -- that it won't help me,” Ezra said, every word catching in his throat as he cried.

Without another word, Master grabbed Ezra’s wrist and pulled him through the door.  Ezra stumbled along beside him, shaking as he tried to keep up with Master’s much-longer steps.  He knew training was going to be brutal and would be followed by an even more painful punishment.

He never should have tried to hide.


	5. Electrocution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Whumptober 2018.
> 
> Ezra is 8 (almost 9) at this point.
> 
> Warning for: abuse/torture of a child; victim making excuses for their abuser

Ezra collapsed to his knees, his lightsaber falling from his hand as he convulsed.  When the shock ended, Ezra was panting as he tugged uselessly at the shock collar around his neck.  He wanted nothing more than to use the Force to rip it open and crush it into a twisted, useless pile of metal, but he knew his punishment for doing so would be much worse than this.

“Focus, Ezra,” Maul snapped as he paced behind him.  “You _must_ be able to concentrate through the pain.  This is nothing compared to what a Sith Lord can do to you.”

Ezra said nothing as he stumbled to his feet, calling his lightsaber back to his hand.  He narrowed his eyes as he faced down the small, hovering remote that was his “opponent.”  The bolts it shot at him were low-intensity and would only leave small burns if they hit him, and Ezra was supposed to deflect them, even as he was subjected to the painful shocks Maul administered at random.

Ezra raised his weapon as the droid began to fire again.  He deflected the first few blaster bolts with no problem, and then the next shock came.  He managed to stay on his feet this time, but he missed the next bolt by centimeters, stumbling backwards when it hit his shoulder.  As soon as the shock subsided, the next one began, ripping through Ezra’s body like it was trying to tear him to shreds.

_Focus_ , Ezra told himself, even as his mind echoed with the distant sound of his own cries of pain.  _You won't get to stop until you do this._

He forced himself back to his feet -- he hadn't even realized he’d fallen again -- and raised his lightsaber.  As he deflected two bolts fired in quick succession, the shock stopped, and Ezra felt his chest loosen as it became easier to breathe again.  As Ezra continued to deflect the bolts, the shocks kept coming, and with each one, Ezra clung to the surge of anger that welled up inside him, holding onto it like a rope that kept him standing up, refusing to let himself fall again.

He didn’t know how long it was, maybe only minutes, before the droid stopped firing and shut down.  It was all Ezra could do to stay on his feet, shaking where he stood.  Every muscle in his body ached and burned like it was on fire, and he was now painfully aware of the metal edges of the collar digging into his skin.

Maul circled in front of Ezra and tilted his chin up, unlocking the collar and removing it.  It hadn't been tight enough to restrict Ezra’s breathing, but as it was removed, Ezra felt like a tight, strangling grip had finally released him.

“You did so well,” Maul said.

The words sent a rush of warmth flooding over Ezra, his heart skipping a beat as he sensed his master’s pride in him.  At the very least, _this_ made the pain worth it.

“Th--thank you, Master,” he said, his voice shaking under the weight of his exhaustion.

“But you can do better,” Maul said.  “And you will, tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master,” Ezra said, bowing his head slightly.

Once he was alone in his room, out of Maul’s sight, Ezra gingerly touched his neck where the shock collar had rubbed his skin raw and let out a quiet _hiss_ of pain.  He hated the shock collar so much, more than anything else his master ever did to him, and he knew that it would go back around his neck tomorrow and there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

Ezra shuddered at the thought of the cold durasteel closing around his throat again, of the dread that would settle in his stomach as the knowledge hovered in the back of his mind that at any second, the pain could start without warning.  He knew why.  He understood that his master didn’t _want_ to hurt him and was only trying to teach and protect him.  Maul did this because he cared.

Ezra clung to that thought as he once again caught himself wincing in pain as he curled up in his bed, his blanket wrapped tightly around him.  His master had cared enough to take him in, teach him, and make sure he could protect himself, and Ezra _would_ pay him back by doing better.


	6. Love

He hadn't noticed it before.  It had been drowned out by his confusion and anger, by the tears that had come as he lay sobbing on his bunk.  But now he sensed it.  It had twisted around him like a rope and sunk under his skin.

He knew the feeling belonged to them, not to him.  He didn’t love them.  He didn’t _know_ them.  But they loved him.  They loved him so much it hurt them, and sensing it hurt him just as much.

It didn’t feel right knowing that two strangers felt that way about him.  It didn’t feel right letting them think he was the person they loved.  Mira and Ephraim Bridger loved a boy who had vanished ten years ago.  Ezra wasn’t that boy.

The person the Bridgers loved didn’t exist anymore, if he ever really had in the first place.


	7. Carry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Disappeared. Ezra is about four years old.

Maul stood over Ezra, who sat against the wall, staring at the floor, his eyes barely open, shaking from exhaustion.  He’d been forced to run across the room over and over until his legs ached so much he began to cry, and then keep going.

Seeing him so clearly tired and in pain, Maul couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if he’d ever allowed himself to appear so vulnerable at Ezra’s age.  The moment he let his guard down would have been the moment an attack came and he would have been forced to fight back and defend himself, both a lesson and a punishment.

It was a lesson Ezra would have to learn, that an attack could come at any moment.  A lesson Maul could make sure he learned right now.  A lesson he knew he _should_ be making sure Ezra learned now.  No enemy would care how young or defenseless the boy was, yet Maul inexplicably did.

On impulse, he leaned down and lifted Ezra into his arms.  Ezra gasped and weakly squirmed in his grip.  But he was too tired to keep up the fight for long, and once he realized Maul wasn’t trying to hurt him, he stopped struggling and let Maul carry him down the corridor.

It didn’t take long for Maul to reach Ezra’s room, but by the time he did, the boy had already fallen asleep in his arms.  Maul opened the door and carried Ezra inside.  He set the boy down on the bed and quickly turned away.  As he reached the door, he found himself looking back.  He reached out through the Force, pulling the blanket up over Ezra, who didn’t seem to notice anything had happened.

Maul left the room and walked down the corridor as quickly as he could without actually running away as he tried to put as much distance between himself and what had just happened as he could.


	8. Chain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the first few chapters of Disappeared. Ezra is still 3 years old.

All Ezra could see was darkness.  The blindfold clung to his skin, sticking and itching where his tears had soaked the cloth.  He had long since stopped struggling against the chain bolted into the wall behind him, binding his arms together and wrenching them back painfully.

Ezra whimpered quietly as he heard those metal footsteps approaching.  He forced himself to stay quiet when he heard the door open.  If he started crying again, Maul might just leave him here longer.

Ezra blinked rapidly as the blindfold was removed.  Maul stood over him, his face unreadable as he dropped the blindfold to one side and removed the strip of cloth that had been shoved into Ezra’s mouth to muffle the sound of his crying.

“I did warn you what would happen if you tried to run again,” Maul said.  Ezra nodded, saying nothing.  Maul _had_ warned him, and he’d tried to escape anyway.

Ezra gasped as Maul grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up into those terrifying yellow eyes.

“I don’t like doing this to you, Ezra,” Maul said.  “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Ezra said, not because he believed it, but because he knew by now that that was the right answer.

Maul’s grip on his face tightened just enough to startle a small whimper out of Ezra.

“Y--yes, Master,” Ezra said, correcting his mistake.

“But I’ll need to keep doing it until you can learn your lesson,” Maul said, his voice cold as he released his grip on Ezra.

“I--I have,” Ezra said.

“Do you think so?” Maul asked, his tone making it clear that he didn’t believe Ezra.

“Yes,” Ezra said.  “Please let me out.”

Maul’s gaze was cold as he looked down at Ezra, and for a moment, Ezra was terrified that Maul was just going to leave him chained up.  He flinched as Maul reached out a hand toward him, only to feel the chain fall away from his arms.

“The next time you try to escape, your punishment will be far worse than this,” Maul said.  “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Ezra said.

Maul turned away and walked through the door, leaving Ezra alone in the dark, cold cell.  Ezra stayed where he was, huddling against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them.  He stayed there for hours, his eyes fixed on the chain coiled on the floor beside him.

Ezra never tried to run away again.


	9. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Taking Shelter, after Maul kidnaps Ezra again.

Mira Bridger.  That was the mother’s name.  Ephraim Bridger was the father.  These were the names of the people who called themselves Ezra’s parents, who’d raised his son for the first years of his life.

He’d found their names when he searched through Ezra’s mind, and he’d sensed Ezra’s certainty that they were his biological parents.

He should have killed them when he’d taken Ezra from them.  He should have known that not doing so would come back to haunt him, but he’d been overconfident, thinking there was no chance of being caught.  He’d been so focused on Ezra that he’d made the mistake of letting his parents live.

He could do it now.  He could track them down, kill them like he should have all those years ago, prove to Ezra how little they mattered in his life.  He would realize the truth, that even if he shared their blood, they were not his real parents.

A memory clawed its way to the surface of his mind.  He was being held back by two Death Watch soldiers, shouting -- _begging_ \-- for them to let go as he struggled, desperate to reach Talzin.  He was hauled back onto the ship as he watched Grievous run her through while Sidious looked on.

He couldn’t do it.

He had sworn he wouldn’t destroy Ezra the way Sidious had destroyed him, and it was a promise he intended to keep.


	10. Rain

The _Ghost_ was as warm as it always was, but Ezra couldn’t stop shivering.  The sound of the rain pounding against the roof of the ship echoed in his head, and he found himself jumping at the first _crack_ of thunder.

“Never figured you for the scared of storms type,” Sabine said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m not,” Ezra said, his face burning with embarrassment.  He wasn’t scared of storms.  He never had been.  So why did he feel this way, like everything inside him was _twitching_?

Ezra stood up abruptly and left Sabine’s cabin.  Sabine looked over her shoulder at him, but didn’t try to stop him.  He wandered aimlessly through the ship until he found himself in the cockpit, staring blankly through the viewport at the storm that raged around them.

“You alright?”

Ezra jumped at the sound of Kanan’s voice.  He’d been so lost in watching the storm that he hadn't sensed his master’s presence or even heard him approaching.

“I’m fine,” Ezra said, a little too quickly to be believable.  He knew Kanan had probably sensed that strange buzzing, twitching, uneasy feeling that simmered under Ezra’s skin.  He’d been too distracted by it to even think about shielding their bond.

“Ezra, everyone’s scared of something,” Kanan said.  That reassurance in his voice made a hot flare of anger surge through Ezra’s chest for reasons he couldn’t understand.

“I’m not a child,” he snapped.  “I’m not scared of storms.  I just --”

The memory flashed through his mind.  His own voice, frantic and terrified.  _Please don’t leave me here!_

“It was when Maul kidnapped me,” Ezra said, all traces of emotion suddenly gone from his voice.  “The night before he took me to Dathomir, I tried to escape.”

As he said it, the scar on his arm seemed to burn.  It had been nearly a year since that day, and the scar still looked the same as it had when it had healed after the ritual.  It hadn't faded at all, and Ezra instinctively knew that it never would.

“It was storming like this,” Ezra said, his voice hollow, “and when Maul caught me, he -- he chained me to a tree and he left me there.”

His voice broke as he felt that painfully familiar burning sensation behind his eyes.  He didn’t want to cry.  Not now, not over _this_.

Kanan’s arm slid around Ezra’s shoulders, and Ezra leaned into Kanan’s side.  He still stared out of the viewport at the sky, not looking at Kanan.

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Kanan said, his grip on Ezra tightening for just a moment.

Ezra said nothing.  A deep, aching pain spread through his chest, as if a hole had been torn open in it.  It was the first time he’d spoken to anyone about what Maul had done that night, and it only made it hurt that much more.  Maul had chained him to a tree in the middle of a storm and left him there for hours.  He’d done that to someone he considered his son.

“Who does that to their own child?” Ezra muttered, barely aware that he was even speaking.

“You’re not his child,” Kanan said, a bitter edge to his voice.  Kanan sighed, and Ezra could feel the sting of regret at his automatic response.  He knew that saying that wasn’t helpful.

“Someone who doesn’t deserve to be a part of their kid’s life,” Kanan said.

Another _crack_ of thunder split the air and Ezra jumped.  It took him a moment to realize that he’d begun clinging to Kanan.  His face burning, Ezra began to pull away, only for Kanan to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said.  “I understand.”

Ezra nodded, letting himself lean against Kanan’s side.  If there was one thing he could count on, it was that Kanan would keep him safe from the storm.


	11. Privilege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Disappeared. Ezra is about 7 or 8.

Ezra tugged his blanket tightly around himself as he curled up in his bed.  Training had left him exhausted, with half of his muscles aching from overuse.  His eyes were just beginning to close when the door opened and Maul entered the room.  Ezra quickly kicked off the blanket and stood up.  He’d thought they were done with training, and he didn’t _think_ he’d done anything wrong.

“You did very well today, apprentice,” Maul said.

He held something out toward Ezra, whose eyes widened when he saw that it was a datapad.  He knew what this meant, and it had been nearly six months since the last time he’d been allowed to do this.

“Thank you, Master,” he said, taking the datapad from Maul’s hand.

The second Maul left the room, Ezra settled back onto his bed and opened one of the books that was stored on the datapad, remembering exactly where he’d left off.  Reading for fun was a privilege; a reward Ezra was given for being good or performing well.  He no longer cared how tired and sore he was.  He wasn’t going to waste one second of the time he’d been given.

* * *

 

When Ezra woke the next morning, the datapad was gone.  In spite of the soreness radiating through his body and the ache in his eyes from lack of sleep, he dragged himself out of bed.  If he could do well in training today, maybe his master would let him read again tonight.  He doubted it would really happen.  It was a reward he rarely got.  But he could hold out hope, at least.


	12. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Taking Shelter.

“Are you going to adopt Ezra?”

Kanan nearly dropped the dish he’d been cleaning.  Sabine’s question had come out of nowhere, and he found himself unable to think of any way to respond except…

“What?”

“You already adopted me,” Sabine said.  “What about him?”

Kanan carefully dried the dish and put it away, trying to buy himself more time to think of an answer.  Without looking at her, he could feel Sabine’s eyes on him, waiting.

“I don’t know,” Kanan said as he turned to face her, leaning against the counter.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sabine asked.  Kanan hesitated before responding.

“He told you about Dathomir, didn’t he?”

“Oh,” Sabine said, her face falling.  “Right.  I guess after that…” she trailed off, not needing to finish the thought.

“Yeah,” Kanan said.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it.  But in the end, Ezra was already his son.  Whether the bond was formal or not wasn’t going to change that.  With Sabine, it had been simple; a few words said in the heat of an emotional moment, acknowledging what they both already felt.  But after what Maul had done to Ezra, Kanan couldn’t do that to him.

“I haven’t talked to him about it,” Kanan said.  “I’d have to before…I’m not going to do it without his permission.”

Sabine’s mouth pressed into a tight line.

“I can't believe Maul did that to him,” she said.  “I always knew he was…but that’s just…”

“Wrong,” Kanan said with a nod.

A brief moment of silence fell between them before it was cut short by Sabine.

“Kanan,” she said, “are you okay?”

“What?”

Sabine sighed as she boosted herself up onto the counter so she was sitting beside him.  Kanan looked away to hide a small smile.  It was behavior that he might have expected from a much younger kid, but at sixteen, Sabine was still in the habit, and Ezra was starting to pick it up from her.

“Ezra’s your kid,” Sabine said.  “Maul did that to your kid.”

Her voice broke on the last couple words and Kanan could practically see her internal struggle to control herself and keep the emotion off of her face.

“And to your little brother,” Kanan said.  Sabine nodded.

“No,” Kanan said.  “I’m not okay.  And I know you’re not, either.”

He slid his arm around Sabine, pulling her into a gentle hug.

“It’s okay to be hurting over this,” he said.  “Just because you’re the big sister doesn’t mean you have to act tough and pretend you’re not hurt.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Sabine asked.

Kanan sighed.  She wasn’t exactly wrong.  He couldn’t even hide behind the explanation that he didn’t want to burden Sabine and Ezra with how he felt.  He hadn’t spoken to Zeb or Hera about it, either.  It was hard enough just thinking about it, but actually putting what had happened into words, that Maul had forcibly adopted Ezra and violated his mind in the process, was more than Kanan thought he could bear.

But Sabine’s carefully-neutral expression and the turmoil he felt raging inside her mind was proof enough that avoiding the subject wasn’t helping any of them.

“You’re right,” he said.  “And I’ll try to be more honest with you, if that’s what you want.”

He tightened his arm around her shoulders as she leaned closer to his side.

“And if you need to talk about it, you can always come to me,” Kanan said.  “Okay?”

Slowly, Sabine nodded.  She abruptly straightened up and slid down off of the counter, putting her arms around Kanan and resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“I will, Buir,” she said.  “Or I’ll try, anyway.”


End file.
